I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For, Pasta?
by AnimeyaoiFangirl2121
Summary: Italy accidentally burns down Germany's house leaving the country homeless. But that's okay, Italy's doors are always open!


A/N: I watched one episode of Hetalia and that turned into every episode and a movie. LOL! If I didn't love Germany and Italy so much this would probably be about Sweden, but this is a little something about Germany and Italy so I hope you enjoy! After all the German classes I've taken, I am not throwing in some random German words or any Italian (I've seen it done in other fics, that's why I'm saying so). Oh, and I've read some of the other Hetalia fics, love them, but some of the readers that leave comments can be pretty harsh. So, if you don't like it, fine, but don't leave a comment stating so. Alright? Because I'd really hate to have to cuss you out. I think that's it, so happy reading. And please review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Hetalia.

I Scream, You Scream, We all scream for…Pasta?

Germany looked down at his single packed bag, filled with what was left of his belongings that wasn't destroyed in his house fire, and sighed. Of all the things his pasta loving ally could do, he just had to set his sights on the man's house? His house! It is said that a man's home is his castle; well now Germany's was a scorched pile of wood and various other debris.

Italy had good intentions, naturally. It wasn't like he woke up that morning, rolled over to look at the gruff blonde, and decided that he was going to make Germany's life a living hell. It just… happened.

_**Rewind…**_

Germany had been stuck at his office for what seemed like an entire weekend, neglecting his home, health, and beloved bumbling ally in order to finish his heavy work load (which was constantly prolonged because Italy was either calling because he'd gotten himself into some kind of trouble or wanted to see what the other man was doing, or because his adorable little kitten was doing the cutest of things). During this so called time away from home, Italy had taken it upon himself to prepare his dearest comrade the pasta meals of all pasta meals. Only one thing led to another and Germany's house went up in flames before he knew it.

Germany had been in route to his home, tired beyond recognition, when he noticed his street blocked off by numerous fire trucks and police cars. Now considering he lived in a fairly decent and quiet neighborhood where things like fires and break-ins rarely happened, Germany was left with a rather stale taste in his mouth as he secretly prayed (which meant he was all but begging) that it wasn't his house.

…

It was his house.

Germany hopped out of his car, rushing through the crowd of firemen and up to his walk way to where a panicked Italy was sitting, holding nothing but a half empty pasta pot. Germany had half a mind to choke the ally, and had the authorities not been there, he most likely would have.

"Italy!" Bellowed Germany. "What the hell did you do?!"

"Pasta… dinner… pasta… noooo… boom!" Cried Italy, cradling the pot. He wailed pasta a few more times before getting to his feet, throwing his lithe arms around the much taller man. "I'm sorry Germany! So! So! So! So! Sorry!"

"Sorry isn't going to bring my house back!" Germany seethed.

This made Italy all the more hysterical.

Between his house being on fire, Italy balling like a baby, the chattering of his gathered neighbors, and the flow of firemen, Germany had half a mind to get back into his car and go… well.. away from all the madness. Austria and France didn't live too far from him… hell France was technically walking distance, but they didn't like him so that ruled them out. And Japan lived too far and he still had work to do. Not only that, but Japan had that whole taking off your shoes thing and Germany had a strict policy of keeping his shoes on in places he wasn't familiar with (not that he hadn't been over to Japan's house before it was just the fact that it wasn't Germany's house).

"Germany! Germany!" Italy tugged on his jacket. "Come stay at my house, Germany!"

"Hell no."

Germany had a list of reasons for not staying over at Italy's, the top one being his older brother Romano. The two of them together was a far bigger headache than he wanted to deal with. He'd rather take his chances at living out of his car first.

Italy pouted, his bottom lip quivered as he prepared to wail again. "Are you mad at me? Do you hate me now?" He sniffled.

"Of course I'm mad, but I don't hate you."

Germany sighed. The man was a neat freak who thrived for order and his own space. But at the moment neither being homeless nor living out of his car appealed to him, so with a reluctant nod he agreed to Italy's offer.

"Alright… fine…" Said Germany. "Just tell me you grabbed more than just that pot."

Italy perked at this, that ditzy smile of his returning. "No, silly! I grabbed some of your dirty books, some of your dirty movies (the ones with the cute covers and all the colors), and some of your clothes!" Replied Italy.

Germany glared down at his ally, it could always be worse.

_**Play…**_

Italy's home, despite his carefree and dingy nature, was actually quite humble and nice (with the exception of Romano being the other occupant). It was small yet cozy, and filled with tons of history and cute baby pictures of the brothers. If anything it reminded Germany of his mother's home, just with the over killing stench of spices and pasta.

"Get comfortable," Italy chirped, one of the few kittens that littered his home perched atop his head. "I'll make you some dinner!"

"You making dinner is what landed me here in the first place." Germany said, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was a habit he did, one Italy knew all too well, when he was either irritated or annoyed.

Italy simply ignored that minor detail, skipping off into his kitchen. Germany, now alone, took it upon himself to settle into his temporary housing. Sitting his bag down in the spare bedroom, Germany rummaged through a few of the dresser drawers until he found what he was looking for. The man, when his business took him to his ally's homeland, often stayed over. Which meant some of his clothes were still there, thank heavens.

Meanwhile, Italy was in the process of preparing the meals of all meals when Romano arrived home from visiting Spain.

"I smell potatoes." Dark brown brows knitted together as he undoubtedly sniffed the air. He turned a glare onto his baby brother, who was happily stirring pasta sauce, far too occupied to pay him any attention. "Feliciano," Romano chided. "I. Smell. Po-ta-toes."

Italy looked up at the sound of his name, giving his brother a smile. "Romano!" He chirped happily. "Welcome home! Germany is staying over!"

Romano's brow twitched.

"What?"

"Yeah! I accidently destroyed his house, so he's staying here."

Romano grew silent for a moment as he took a moment to let the words register. The enemy had infiltrated his home, and he was powerless to retaliate without hurting his brother in the process.

"And you didn't leave him there why?"

"Without a place to stay?" Italy questioned horrified.

Romano sighed.

Italy, while Romano paced the kitchen floor, gave his masterpiece a taste to make sure it topped off every meal he'd prepared before it, and it did.

"Oh wow!" He beamed, having another taste.

Then another…

And then another…

Another…

And another one…

….

"Uh Italy…?" Germany took his seat at Italy's small dinner table, an empty plate sate before him.

During his shower, all the gruff country could think about was his ally's mouth watering pasta. And considering he hadn't had a home cooked meal in days, his stomach growled fitfully at the thought of the other man's cooking. Italy might be a useless crybaby, but he could sure as hell cook and that made up for everything he lacked. But the last thing Germany was expecting, especially after the harrowing events within the last hour, was an empty dinner plate.

"I'm sorry…" Said Italy. He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. "I ate it all…"

"All of it?" Questioned Germany.

Italy nodded, "I just wanted to taste it."

"And ate all of it?"

Italy nodded, pouting.

Germany sighed. First thing in the morning he was going to start looking for a new home. Because living with Italy and Romano was going to make him anything but sane.


End file.
